The Task of Breathing
by Chigz
Summary: How badly can conflicting emotions affect someone's life? The boundary between love and hate is all too thin, and it may take several crossings to realize how a certain ex-couple really feels. ChrisTrish, after the eversoshocking heel turn, dun dun dunnn.
1. The Night After

First of all, I'd just like to say how very, very pissed I am that Chris doesn't get his happy ending. Trish plays a damn good heel, and this will get Christian well out of mid-card status, up to where he should be... but my poor Y2J has had his heart broken more than once. They're all doing a great job making Chris and Trish's turns a success. I started bawling my poor face off, screaming, and hurling things at the TV during WrestleMania. And I've been pissing and moaning about this to all of my friends since it started. God, I'm pissed. But now I have more stuff to write about. So, WWE, I thank you, and at the same time, I give a great big ol' "fuck yourselves!" I was so for Chris and Trish. But, yes, Chris WILL get his revenge, believe you me! Even if I have to age fifteen years, show up on Raw, shove a pointed nail file through Blondie's chest, and save Y2J myself! Okay, Chigz... marking out quite a bit. =P Calm down. This is the first fictional storyline to ever affect me so deeply. I'm one sick child.  
  
Anyway... this story takes place during Raw 3/15, with a few short flashbacks to Mania. You'll know when. I don't own any of the characters, nor the song "Here With Me," by Dido.  
  
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Alone. That was only one of the thousands of emotions he had felt the past twenty-four hours. There was nothing to stop it. Nothing he could possibly do. He couldn't even find the strength to cry. Crying wouldn't have solved anything anyway.  
  
He sat in the leather seat of the car, haulted by a red light. His fingers jabbed into his closed eyes, trying desperately to conjure up some sort of tears, to let him know that there were still some left. His eyelids rubbed back and forth across his eyes as he held them shut loosely. He didn't care whether or not he had them open in time for the traffic lights to start shining green.  
  
Chris just wanted to get the hell out of that city, the hell out of his own mind. Just for time enough to be able to tell his friends and family he loved them before sure insanity took over him and he'd be pushed to do the unthinkable. That was all he wanted now.  
  
He spoke to himself, reassuring the fact that he was alive, but God knows what state of mind the man was in. He placed his hands on the wheel, slowly opened his eyes, and stared blankly ahead of him, into the busy street and surrounding city lights.  
  
"The joke's on you, Chris." His tone was almost mechanic, completely unfeeling, and conformed to the same tone of his car engine as it lightly revved up to continue down the road. "You idiot. Too blinded by love to be part of reality."  
  
His chest barely rose at all as he breathed. There was nothing inside of him, no energy to even think. He had only come to Raw that night for his one match, because his career depended on it. To hell with sticking around for anything else. Nothing was worth it. He was too fragile, too weak, too broken, too malnourished to deal with that kind of emotional abuse the whole night. He hadn't eaten a single thing since... since...  
  
*Last Night*  
  
He could feel his stomach at the bottom of his throat. He swore it had almost torn through his lungs and collapsed his heart entirely. Instead of slowly breaking down, his whole existence was made null and void in a single moment. Confusion, panic, shock, disbelief, everything he had dreaded feeling again for such a long time; it all rushed back to him.  
  
He and Christian... their match, their feud seemed like a branch floating in the wind. The storm hadn't risen over him until he saw that look in her eye, that torturous smirk on her face, and felt the unsympathetic sting of her fist on his face... and that kiss.  
  
Those feelings would never leave him. Those images would always be embedded into his head, staining his every thought, every dream, every hope. There was just nothing he could do, and now, sitting alone, running from his fears, turning his back on what was undeniably just the beginning of a harsh reality, those feelings he had thought would never return while Trish was there... they hit him, and hit him hard.  
  
## I didn't hear you leave.  
  
I wonder how am I still here.  
  
I don't want to move a thing,  
  
it might change my memory.  
  
Oh I am what I am, I'll do what I want,  
  
but I can't hide.  
  
I won't go, I won't sleep,  
  
I can't breathe, until you're resting here with me. ##  
  
He turned the car into the hotel parking lot, parked a bit of a distance from the building, and sat. He couldn't move a muscle in his worn body. He couldn't pull himself up to step out of the car. He was wrecked, and there was nothing he could do about it. He felt like if he wished hard enough for it, he could stop breathing right then and there, and like the coward he knew himself to be, never have to deal with this pain.  
  
Letting loose every last struggling bit of energy inside of him, he slammed his fists onto the front of the steering wheel, causing the horn to go off. He kept his fists pressed tightly against it, using the prolonged noise as his own cries of pain, an outlet for his hurt.  
  
"Damn you to fucking hell, Trish Stratus!!" His cries were a mere show of his own helplessness, his own defenselessness, and he knew that. They weren't going to do anything but relieve a fraction of the stress he felt.  
  
Chris thrust his head back and tears ran like a soft stream from his eyes. For the first time in a long while, he had found it within him to let the tears flow. He didn't even know if he could cry for some time. He had always been too cocky and proud to cry, but then again, he had never been this pained and simply broken. If there was a perfect time to just sit back and cry the lingering pain within him away, now was it.  
  
## I won't leave, I can't hide. I cannot be, until you're resting here with me. ##  
  
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That's only the first chapter. I don't know how long I'm going to have this play out, but there might be quite a few more chapters before my objective for this story is met. It'll either be all Chris, a bunch of pain and internal conflict, or maybe, if I can figure out how to get a confrontation, I'll add Trish and Christian in and see what happens. Anyway... there WILL be more. I'd like some feedback though, from anyone who is willing to give it! ^^ If you want to review with your C&C on the first chapter, go ahead. If you want to rave or rant about Trish's heel turn, or WrestleMania, or the direction the angle is going in now, go ahead. Just please review, because I love reviews! Also, thanks so much to the people who reviewed my first fanfic, Overdue. I can't even say how overjoyed I was reading such nice comments. Thanks so much to you guys for being so considerate, and for finding the time to read my work. It makes everything worthwhile. I really, really appreciate it. 


	2. Concequences

Woohoo. Done with the second chapter. I have finally figured out how I'm going to have this story play out. Just to make sure everyone knows, again, these characters are not mine, and no credibility belongs to me, other than for the story and writing itself. This takes place Saturday, March 20. I guess that's sort of important to know.  
  
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Chris sat at a small café table, a tall mug on the countertop in his right hand. He stared into the contents of the mug, and watched ripples play across the liquid as the table rocked while he gently shook the glass. The bells on the door of the café jingled softly as people entered. It was considerably late in the evening, a strange time to be at a café, even if it was a twenty-four hour business. People in this city seemed to have a ritual to visit the café late at night rather than a downtown bar. Chris had never been here before, so he had opted to visit the well-known café instead of getting drunk like he'd done the past four nights.  
  
He hadn't been scheduled to work any house shows that week, even though it was the last week of Raw as he knew it. He had almost considered this roster shake-up a blessing. The further he got from Christian, and his accomplice... that slut, Trish... the better.  
  
He raised the mug to his lips, feeling the hot seem on his face before he tasted the beverage. I was obvious why the café was so popular. He took several more thin sips before placing the mug back on the glass tabletop. He looked outside into the streetlights. It was raining slightly, and the whole city seemed to be in solitude.  
  
The bells on he door softly rung again, and Chris looked toward the entrance to find the redhead Diva, Lita. He hadn't spoken to her in quite a while, and he didn't plan on starting now. As far as he knew, she was still Trish's closest friend, and she had come to badmouth him. He shifted his gaze back down toward his drink.  
  
Lita bit her lower lip and cautiously walked toward Chris. He had his head turned, and Lita knew he probably wanted nothing to do with her, but she had been up and down the street that their hotel was on, looking for him.  
  
"Hi, Chris... I saw you through the window." She hesitated and took a deep breath before walking closer toward him and sitting in a chair beside him at the table. "I need to talk to you."  
  
Chris felt no need to respond, even though Lita's tone was warm and she seemed agreeable enough. He had too much on his mind. He glanced at her for a few short seconds, noticing that she seemed tired and worn out. She must have just gotten back from the house show that night.  
  
"Listen, Chris..." The Diva swallowed hard before continuing. "I had nothing to do with Trish. Nothing. I didn't... I didn't even know. If I had known she was going to do this to you, I would have said something. I would have told you." Lita almost felt tears forming. She felt guilty for not knowing, or not even noticing any signs that this was going to happen. She felt like she was obligated to do more than explain, as if it was her fault that Chris had gotten his heart broken.  
  
Chris turned back toward Lita. His mouth was a straight line, his face was expressionless, but Lita could tell he was listening, and he was understanding her. She spoke in the most sincere and sympathetic voice. He couldn't ignore what she had to say.  
  
"Honestly, if I had know she was going to.... that she was gonna do this to you, I- I would not have let it happen. There's no way, after me being so involved from the beginning, that I would have stood for that. I know how much you loved her, Chris. I still don't understand how she could do it. I just... I feel like I should have been able to tell, and I could have stopped it, I could have told you. Chris, I'm so, so sorry."  
  
Without delay, Chris leaned toward Lita and wrapped his arms around her. Lita had such a great way of reassuring him. She always went out of her way to care for people, and let them know she was there, and where she stood. Her image on camera was contradicted by how sensitive and caring she was. The hug let Lita know that Chris believed her, even in his fragile state, and she hugged him back.  
  
"Thank you, Lita. I can't believe I thought you might have been behind it, too." These were the first words Chris had spoken to anyone since Monday night.  
  
Their embrace broke. Lita smiled and looked into his eyes. "Never. She was hiding this from everyone, I guess."  
  
"I'm sorry about Matt." Chris looked downward, reflecting on last week. He hadn't considered how Lita would feel about that. He didn't expect things to go that far, but Matt, and everyone around him, had enraged him so much, rubbing WrestleMania's events in his face.  
  
"It's okay. I talked to him today, and he's doing fine. He was just doing his job and it got personal. He shouldn't have said those things to you, and he knows it. He brought it on himself." She clutched Chris's beverage off the table and handed it to him. "It's getting cold."  
  
"Thanks." Chris took a few more sips, and looked back up at Lita. "Do you think you could apologize to him for me tonight when you go back to the hotel?"  
  
Lita nodded, and stood up. "Well, why don't you do it yourself?" She pulled lightly on Chris's hand encouraging him to stand. He pulled away, and leaned back in his chair, with a heavy sigh.  
  
"I'm not going back to the hotel tonight. I think I'll just stay here a while, maybe drive around the city afterwards. I'll go back tomorrow and sleep in before the show on Monday."  
  
Lita sighed, and sat back down, acting as if she weren't going to leave him alone. She looked concerned, but more frightened. "Chris, how much sleep have you gotten this past week? You need to go get some rest. Don't dwell on this forever. She... she let something wonderful pass her by, and SHE should have to pay for that, not YOU."  
  
Chris rested his forehead on the table, and shook his head violently, thoughts rushing to him, and an angry chill flowing over his body. "She's not paying for anything. She got what she wanted. She accomplished what she set out to do. No matter what, I'm going to have to pay for it. Everything is win-win for her. She's happy, I'm miserable, there's nothing I can do to change it or to ignore it."  
  
"Chris, hun..." Lita rubbed her hand over his back, and patted his shoulder. "Chris, it's okay... don't kill yourself over someone who's not worth it. She's not worth you. Even if she gets what she wants she'll have to live knowing she gave up someone so devoted to her, and so genuine. Christian can't give her that, I know it personally. No one can give her that, and she'll realize it, and hate herself for it sooner or later."  
  
She stood up, grabbed both his shoulders, and pulled him up straight. She grabbed his mug and urged him to stand. "Come on. You can't stay here all night. Get some sleep."  
  
The two walked a few blocks to the hotel, and Lita saw Chris to his room. He finally managed to settle in, but barely got any sleep that wasn't filled with nightmares of Trish and himself. And Christian. Their past, present, and future, and how blind Chris was not to see it all coming. 


	3. So Much Left To Say

Okay, 3rd chapter, guys! Story takes place on Raw, Monday, March 22. You know the drill. Characters aren't mine. They're the WWE's. Story is mine. Bla, bla, bla. Please review!  
  
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Chris walked the backstage halls of the Raw set, nervously weaving through the rest of the roster, plus all of SmackDown!'s superstars. He had gotten changed at the hotel before he left, to avoid having to see Christian in the locker room. Confrontation was the last thing he needed. Chris had his own objective. It was the night of the big roster switch, but for Chris, it served a bigger purpose.  
  
The halls were filled with fellow WWE superstars. Chris had never paid much attention to how big the rosters were. He managed to avoid conversation, but seeing all of his old friends and people he's competed with in the past on SmackDown was calming. He knew that everyone was in for a change. His own body shook with some fear, and a great deal of anticipation of the night's events.  
  
As he rounded a corner, Chris smacked into Lita, causing her to lose her balance and stumble back a little. "Oh, hi Chris. I didn't know if you were going to show up."  
  
Beside her stood Matt Hardy, who had his arm around her waist. He had only moved to Raw late last year to spend more time with his long-term girlfriend. Chris could sense Matt's nerves from the look on his face, the lingering doubt in his eyes. He knew the two would do anything to remain on the same brand.  
  
"Hey Lita, Matt. Listen, Lita, can I talk to you for a sec?" Chris whispered. Lita looked toward Matt, who nodded in response to her expression, and he left her side, after giving an accepting glance to Chris. Chris grinned slightly and lowered his head apologetically, blinking twice.  
  
Chris grabbed Lita's wrist and pulled her around the corner. "This might be the last day I get to say anything to Christian or Trish... and before I do..." he gulped, "I want to get your approval, and know you have my back."  
  
Lita jerked back a bit, and looked at him in a confused manner, her eyebrows raised, and expression questioning. "Wh... why would you need my approval?"  
  
Chris's lips creased to a slight playful smile. He lowered his forehead so it was a few inches from hers, and whispered, "If I say something stupid, I can blame it on you."  
  
Lita chuckled a bit, and shoved Chris's shoulder. After that moment of fun, she returned to seriousness, and a loving, warm, concerned look rose in her gaze. "Don't do anything to get yourself hurt, Chris. I'm here for you. Matt, too. He's sorry for taunting you last week. He knows what you're going through... he understands, and if you need anything, we're here."  
  
Chris nodded, took a deep breath, kissed Lita on the cheek and bolted in the opposite direction. Raw's theme music had just hit, and Vince was behind the curtain, dusting his vest off, ready to kick off the day's big events. Chris ran through the halls opposite the stage entrance Vince was standing at. He burst through the curtains, and taking everyone off guard, made his way down the ramp.  
  
His eyes never left the steel ramp below him. He took a few deep breaths, and tried to keep focused, mouthing words to himself, encouraging himself to stay strong.  
  
The announce team of J.R. and Jerry Lawler seemed just as perplexed as the rest of the stars backstage, who knew Vince was supposed to make his entrance the first of the night. There Chris was, fists clenched, eyes cast downward, no music playing behind him; only the sound of the crowd's mixed reactions rung through the arena.  
  
"What? Jericho isn't supposed to be out here! Vince McMahon should be walking to the ring right now. This is uncalled for!" Lawler announced the inopportune presence of Chris Jericho in the arena, while J.R. looked on, just as confused as the rest of the roster backstage watching their TV screens, and the audience, who could tell it was not scripted for Chris to be out there right now.  
  
Chris climbed up the steel steps and through the ropes into the ring. He leaned over the top rope on the opposite side of the ring for a microphone, which was handed to him short after.  
  
Lita and Matt were backstage looking on as well. "Oh my god, I didn't know that's what Chris meant! He's going to do this in public?!" Lita was obviously worried about Chris.  
  
"What's he going to do, hun?" Matt questioned Lita. "I know he doesn't have a match..." Lita bit her lower lip, shook her head slowly from side to side, and watched the screen intently. She slowly and quietly whispered, "I don't even know, he... he didn't tell me exactly, he just ran off."  
  
Chris paced back and forth across the ring a few times, tapping the side of the microphone with his finger, and breathing heavily to himself. He felt sweat begin to drip over his left temple, and down the side of his face. He raised the mic slowly to his lips, only to pause quite a bit longer.  
  
The crowd began to get restless and impatient, but Chris blocked out everything for the instance he was up there in that ring. He had nothing to say to the audience. Just to Trish, and Christian. Before this Lottery had to happen, it would be known where Chris stood, if he ended up split from the couple. He would welcome that possibility with open arms, however.  
  
He finally took one more breath and raised his head. His chest expanded and a demanding, revengeful expression crossed over his features.  
  
"Life is funny. You have to deal with shit every day... and a lot of unexpected things happen in the process. WrestleMania is the chance we all get to prove ourselves. But for me, it was a chance to prove something closer to heart. Trish Stratus... you, you were... the best thing that ever happened to me. I don't regret a single thing that happened between us. I've made plenty of mistakes, but I don't regret making that bet, following through with everything I did. I would never have given myself a chance to get to know you if it weren't for the bet. I...I, I- fell in love with you, Trish, and... I'm not the type of person to let love interfere with the rest of life. You were an exception to that. After all of this, I hope you realize what you've lost, because no one else can ever care for you the way I did. I guess... I guess I just wasn't what you wanted. But Trish, I don't blame you. This wasn't your fault. People have told me, since March 14th, to just let it go. They've been saying that... I'm too good a person... to let this drag me down, to let you drag me down. It's not your fault though, Trish. Something... something turned that wonderful, beautiful, amazing, sweet woman I loved......... into a lying, backstabbing bitch..... It wasn't you. That something... was Christian. He'll never l- love you like I did; like I still do. Even if you get everything you want from him, something will always be missing. I'll always be missing from you, and since you chose Christian over me... you'll never get me back."  
  
Backstage, Lita's eyes began to water and her hands were shaking nervously. "Matt... how can he not be dying up there..." Matt held her close and offered all the comfort she needed.  
  
"Everything I've done for you these past months... I don't know if you realize, but it's all been out of love, because goddamnit woman, what I felt for you... I would have done anything for you to feel the same way. But not a damn thing was good enough. I'm just not good enough. And somehow that bastard Christian is. After what he did to you..... You know what... fuck it." Chris dropped the microphone in the middle of the ring, walked to the outside of the ring nearest the ramp, and vaulted himself over the top rope. He stormed back up the ramp, and the announcers called for a commercial to air.  
  
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The 4th chapter is going to include Trish and Christian, I promise! I've got it all planned out, I'm just too tired to write anymore tonight. I want to get the rest posted before Raw tomorrow though. Remember, my story is not going to follow the actual angle on Raw, or wherever the characters happen to be moved to. Anyway, please review! ^_^ Thanks, guys! 


	4. Looking On

Her eyes were frozen, fixated on the screen in front of her. As he spoke, his voice making obvious the pain he felt inside, his words entered her, and burned through her mind. Each syllable echoed through her head. She wondered how she could continue listening to him; it felt as though she had placed her palm on a hot stove, and refused to take it off, as much as it burned and scolded at her flesh. This was deeper than a physical burn, though.  
  
"Still..."  
  
"What's that, Trish?" Christian touched Trish's long blond hair, catching tangles and gently pulling them apart as his fingers weaved through the locks. He was watching the monitor as well, but Chris's words went through one ear and out the other, as Christian didn't much care what the lovesick Chris had said. Trish sat in his lap on a lounge chair in his dressing room, getting ready for the show to start. They both found themselves unpleasantly surprised as Chris appeared in the ring and spoke on and on. Christian had caught maybe two of Jericho's words. Trish, however, found herself unable to ignore what he had to say.  
  
"He said... 'still'..."  
  
"Still what?" Christian continued to run his fingers through her hair, and leaned his head forward to kiss her shoulder, but she abruptly leaned in the opposite direction, pulling herself away from him.  
  
"He still loves me." The blonde Diva looked into Christian's eyes, but his gaze shifted around the room, cautiously and nervously darting back and forth over the walls.  
  
"W-...what?" He stumbled over the word as Trish stood and looked down at the baffled Christian, her back facing the television monitor.  
  
"Christian, he said he still loves me. Do you listen to anything?" Her breathing became fierce, and she stared at Christian with an odd look of mixed feelings in her eyes. The second she heard Chris's profanity, which the censors failed to block out, and his microphone drop to the mat, she turned to face the T.V. again.  
  
"Oh my god, where the hell does he think he's going?"  
  
"No where, Trish, no where, don't worry. You think he'd be man enough to come find us after what we did to him at Mania? The guy's a coward. He's probably going back to his room to cry. Sorry bastard." Christian stood up and proceeded to kiss Trish again. As his lips touched her neck she grasped his shoulders. She allowed him to have his way, but a thought crossed her mind that caused her to immediately step back, nearly bumping into the television behind her.  
  
"Christian! Did you see what he did to Matt last week?! Are you and I talking about the same person, here?!" Nervousness fell over her and her eyes slowly shifted toward the closed door of Christian's room. She noticed that the door was locked from the inside, which relieved some of her stress, but Trish still felt a bit vulnerable.  
  
"Relax, baby. You know he wouldn't lay a finger on you. And if he touches me he's going to get the same beating he got in New York." He stepped toward her, only for her to step further away from him, her back against the screen, which had gone blank for the moment.  
  
"You are not taking this seriously!"  
  
Christian sighed and fell back in the chair. He looked at Trish with an annoyed glare. "What the hell is there to take seriously? Nothing! Nothing! You think that sorry-assed punk would actually be able to do something to us? He couldn't hurt you if his life depended on it, and he'd just be a fool to mess with me."  
  
Trish gave a frustrated groan and stepped toward the door. "I'm going to the girls' locker room. I'll see you when the show actually starts." She left the room, and Christian rolled his eyes at the door as it shut behind Trish.  
  
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Chris sped up the ramp and through the curtains, again slipping through the backstage halls, packed with all of the WWE superstars. They all stared at him as he plowed through, not making eye contact with any of them.  
  
Lita and Matt ran from their end of the hall toward Chris. When Chris saw Lita, he came to a stop and whispered to her before she got a word in, "I'm leaving."  
  
"What was that about, Chris?" Lita spoke quickly, questioning him.  
  
"I said what I needed to, I'm leaving, I'm done. I told Vince this morning I quit. I've never seen that man more pissed off in my life."  
  
"What?! You can't just leave!!" Matt stepped forward, speaking forcefully, attempting to get through to Chris, even though it appeared through his tone and expression that his mind was made up and couldn't be changed.  
  
"Sure I can, and I'm going to. I managed to convince him I had reason enough for quitting, but I don't think Vince will ever be on good terms with me again." The confidence in Chris's voice told Lita right away that he wasn't kidding. This was a final decision.  
  
"Chris Jericho, listen to me. This is quite possibly the biggest, stupidest mistake you could ever make. There are much better ways to work through this than just quitting. This is your job, Chris. What Trish did really WILL ruin your life if you let it take your career." Lita's voice pleaded, almost begged and demanded for Jericho to listen. "Please, Chris! You can't just leave! Think about this!"  
  
Matt held Lita closely. The two of them had enough to worry about with this roster switch. A close friend and co-worker leaving dampened their spirits even more. Chris was important to everyone on the Raw roster, and everyone in the business. He was liked and respected by most of the people he worked with and wrestled week after week.  
  
He gave a prolonged sigh. His eyes followed the corner of the hall, tracing the floor to the ceiling, when they shifted back down, and there she was.  
  
Trish had stopped dead in her tracks after turning the corner to find the locker room. She saw Chris, and the fear and emotions inside her were obvious through her eyes. Everything from hatred, to mistrust, to anger. His eyes met with hers for a split second before absolute misery and rage ripped through his expression and ran like a flooded river through his blood. He pushed past Matt and Lita, and walked the rest of the way down the hall, turning the corner and passing Trish, without ever making the slightest contact with her. He had already said everything he needed to. But there was so much more he wanted to.  
  
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Yep... so, we're moving along quite nicely. ^^ Please, please, please review. I'll accept any type of review. ANY! Thanks so much to the people who have already reviewed... I really love all of your comments and thoughts, and it makes me so happy to hear what other people think. I've been overwhelmed by the response of some of you, and that's the only reason I keep writing. It really touches me when people enjoy my work... and I'm so glad for those of you who do. The next chapter should be up soon, maybe tomorrow? Anyway, I've got much more planned, so keep reading and reeeeeviewinggggg! ((Hey, I'm so glad Edge is back! Aren't you guys? :-D)) 


	5. Learning How To Live

Still... still. She could tell it by the way he looked at her those short few seconds, even though his icy blue eyes were filled with disgust, and she knew he was appalled at her and what she had done.  
  
But he still loved her, and she could tell somewhere among all of that anger and fury that shone through his gorgeous cerulean eyes; she could see it in him. Words didn't mean much to her anymore, and even though Chris had already said that he still loved her earlier, now she knew he felt it.  
  
The pain he felt was more than obvious to her when she looked at him. She felt some of that pain herself. Chris tried not to let himself show that he did still have those feelings for her, because she didn't deserve them. He couldn't hide anything from her through those eyes of his. She knew it, she knew he felt it, and he couldn't take it back, even by walking past her.  
  
As he walked by, she turned her head slowly, her gaze never leaving him. Chris refused to look at her, as much as the emotions he needed to express were aching to get out. He couldn't bear seeing her, because whenever he looked at her, he saw Christian beside her, the two of them shoving their tongues down each others throats. It made him absolutely horrified and sick to his stomach. His conscience wouldn't allow him to see her any longer.  
  
He walked down the hall past her, and felt her eyes burning on his back, but he never stopped moving as he left. Lita and Matt watched Chris walk away, and saw Trish on the corner. Lita hadn't spoken a word to her since they were in New York. She didn't really know what to say to her.  
  
Trish turned back when Chris turned the next corner toward the parking lot. She herself didn't even know what she was thinking or feeling. The past, and her relationship with Chris, the images, memories, everything all at once came back to her, and for the shortest time, she felt like she had given up the world, and her whole life. Every other emotion tangled within her subsided to regret.  
  
"D-... he... d- did he... say," Trish stuttered, the words barely managing to leave her mouth, "did he say h-he qu-..." Her body felt so weak, she had to cling to the wall to avoid collapsing right there.  
  
"Yeah... he did." Lita looked back at Trish. Matt could do nothing but look on as the two divas exchanged words. Lita blamed Trish, but for some reason, she saw the fear and guilt inside of the blonde diva, and she didn't feel as though it was really her fault. Lita knew that Trish, the Trish she knew, had not meant for this to happen. But was she even the Trish that Lita knew now? Was this all acting, like Trish had played Chris with the past four months?  
  
Trish held her hand in a loose fist and cupped it over her mouth. Christian was right, he was a coward. He brought all of this on himself. It wasn't she and Christian's fault. He deserved what he got for ever playing with Trish's heart and her mind. He was the one that started this, and he should have known that it would all come back to haunt him. He shouldn't have ever thought about messing with Trish. Had he just planned on having a happy ending when he had made Trish miserable from the get-go? That wasn't going to happen. He didn't deserve her, he didn't deserve Christian, and if he wanted to leave his job, so be it. It was Chris's own fault.  
  
Lita looked at Trish, noticing how anger and pride took the place of guilt and grief on her face. "Were you going to say something?" Lita wanted to get everything out of Trish, every explanation. She had no right for doing this, and giving up someone who genuinely loved her was going to make Trish miserable in the end. Lita knew it.  
  
Instead of replying, Trish just rounded the rest of the corner and proceeded to walk to the locker room. She wasn't able to get very far before Lita rushed up and snatched her arm, tugging at her wrist and forcing Trish to face her.  
  
"Dammit, Trish, I hope you realize how fucking stupid you are."  
  
"Don't even start with me, Lita! You should be on my side! You were involved in this, too!" Trish snapped back at her, yanking her wrist from Lita's grasp and clutching it with her other hand, shooting nasty glances at both Lita and Matt.  
  
"I'm never going to get through to you! I thought we were friends, and you're Christian's bitch now even after what he did to you AND me? That doesn't matter to you? What Chris did doesn't even compare to what Christian did, because Chris knows he made a mistake, and he realized it. Christian still thinks everything he did was fine but Chris is man enough to admit when he's wrong, and you're taking for granted everything that's been given to you. If there is a single ounce of the Trish I used to know left in you, you should feel damn sorry for yourself because you passed up something wonderful for a jackass who couldn't care less for you. Sorry, but that's the truth, honey. Christian doesn't give a damn about you, he's never cared about anyone but himself. But then again I guess that makes you two absolutely perfectly fit for each other."  
  
Trish glared at Lita, her eyes narrow and unforgiving. Why was everything being pinned on her? If Chris wanted a happy relationship wish her he shouldn't have even started that bet. Trish was only with Christian now to get back at Chris. What better a way to show Chris how she felt by betraying him for his best friend and rubbing it in his face? It was what he deserved all along. How could she believe that he actually loved her if he was willing to play some dumb bet?  
  
She shot cold glares at Lita and Matt, and left down the hall toward the locker room. Lita did nothing to stop her, but she shouted as the blonde walked away. "Well I guess you can't defend yourself with a poor motive." Trish angrily stomped away and shook her head at that remark.  
  
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---  
  
Chris did feel like he was making a big mistake, letting Trish's actions control his life, but he would slowly deteriorate from the inside having to see her every day with his former best friend. It would eat him alive, and he knew it. His sanity would be gone sooner rather than later having to watch the two of them together. Now he didn't care what her reason was, the joke was on him. He had been fooled into thinking someone could return his love and have an unyielding affection for him. That was what he believed he had in Trish. He was wrong, and this was the worst possible way to find out.  
  
If Trish was anything that he thought her to be, she wouldn't have led him on. Point blank. There was nothing more Chris could do. Nothing more he even wanted to do. He wasn't strong enough to pull him through this kind of abuse day to day. As much as he wanted revenge, as much as he would kill to be able to rip Christian apart, beat him to a bloody pulp, and kill Trish's chances of being with another man, he knew he wouldn't be able to. It wouldn't solve anything. It wouldn't bring Trish back to him.  
  
It was over, and the realization struck him like lightning. The only option he really had was to leave it behind. There were certain sacrifices Chris had to pull himself to make, because if he forced himself to go to work day to day, he'd be emotionally torn to pieces, because there was no way to avoid seeing them together.  
  
He couldn't help but think that this was just fate, or karma. Something he deserved. God, how could he be so stupid. What in the hell was there inside of him that told him a bet was a good idea? The past couldn't be changed, but if there was some way for Chris to take it all back, he would.  
  
Trish didn't love him. That was that. If she had felt anything for him, they would be together right now. They would be in each others' arms, holding each other, breathing together, and he would have the woman he loved. There was just no way that now, after everything that had happened, they could find a way to each other again. Chris blew his chances. Nothing had ever hurt him like this before.  
  
He made his way through the parking lot to his car. He hadn't bothered saying good bye to anyone. There was really no one to say it to. Word would spread sooner or later, and everyone would know how cowardly he was, but all of the talk and the reactions from the public couldn't hurt him nearly as bad as Trish had. And still, after all of this, he couldn't change the love he felt for her, and he couldn't blame her for this.  
  
There was much more than words between the two of them, more than explanations and attempts at friendship over the course of a few months, more than this betrayal, rejection, despair. So much more, and deep inside, Chris knew that she had loved him. Maybe that love was a thing of the past, and maybe now she felt nothing for him but hatred, but she did love him, and nothing, not vocal denial, not dirty looks, not sleeping with his best friend, could ever change what used to be. She couldn't take that back.  
  
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Fifth chapter complete! Hoorah! Thanks again for the great comments I've been receiving. I appreciate every single one of you who take the time to read my stories. So far I've been doing a chapter a day, which is a pretty good pace for me. I've still got a lot more left to write, and I don't know exactly how this is going to end, but I have an idea. I'll just have to see when I get there. Keep reading and reviewing, guys! I'll always love Chris and Trish together even if the actual storyline is never settled the way the fans want. Sigh. Shippers unite!!! 


	6. Borderline

Trish stood in front of the sink in her locker room, the soft trickling stream of icecold water pouring into her cupped palms. She stared down into the water as each drip caused tiny ripples to play across the tap water toward the outside of the small pool.  
  
Her lips were held barely open, her mouth slightly agape, her breaths obvious as they left her. Every emotion tangling within her, tugging at her being, forced her out of control of her thoughts. She spoke desperately, helplessly to herself, aloud, although no one was around to hear her distressed musings.  
  
She raised her palms up to her face, leaning over the dripping faucet. She took a light breath and splashed the water almost aggressively over her flushed features, the sudden change in temperature sending chills through her flesh.  
  
Pushing the excess water from her cheeks and eyelids, she blinked furiously, trying to catch her breath. "I can't... believe it. He still loves me. He still loves me, he left... for me.... he--"  
  
"Trish?" A sudden voice behind the door caused Trish to jump, bringing her to her senses. The loud rasping of rhythmic knocks echoed through her ears as she frantically reached for a towel nearby, dabbing her face and gathering herself before walking toward the door.  
  
"Trish are you in there? I'm sorry for whatever I said, just come out. Talk to me. They're starting the draft.... Please?"  
  
The blonde diva reached for the handle, opening the door just slightly. She quickly edged herself through the walls, into the hallway. She shut the door behind her, and, panicking, brushed the front of her blouse and pants off, inhaling deeply.  
  
"Okay," she breathed, "okay, I'm ready..." She slipped inside one of Christian's arms, and he walked her down the hall into a large room where everyone present on both the Raw and SmackDown rosters wait. Impatiently fumbling in their seats, they exchanged fears and hopes with those who sat next to them. Trish could barely come to grips with the fact that all of this drama could be over for her after this draft lottery.  
  
She and Christian walked toward the back of the room, ignoring some smirks, glances, and stares from the others. Trish slowly settled into herself, shaking off any mixed emotion she experienced, and stood proud and arrogant, turning to grin at Christian.  
  
They sat in the back of the room, hushed for most of the night. Despite her conscience telling her everything against what her mind lingered on, she couldn't help but think. Chris wasn't in that room with them. He wasn't there because of her.  
  
She peeked to the right of the room, eyeing Matt and Lita hugged tightly together against a wall. Before Matt jumped to Raw, he had to make sure Vince knew that their relationship was going to be strictly behind-the- scenes, so they faked a breakup on air several months back. He had surprised Lita, however. She had no idea of his plan to travel with her, on the same brand, see more of her every week, every day. It was tough having to whisper the drill to Lita in front of the crowd and millions of viewers at home. Vince trusted Matt not to spoil his program. His work was cut out for him, as he had to force Lita to hold back her glee and play along before they could rejoice backstage.  
  
He couldn't just show up on Raw without clearing the dust between he and Lita for the fans. It all worked out well for them at that point, but the draft was just as Vince said. No one was safe, and there were no exceptions. Not even begging would do the trick for the happy couple this time.  
  
Trish grew disgusted of Lita and Matt's snuggling, whimpering, holding each other so tight they could barely feel the actual temperature in the room around them. It made her want to vomit, how they remained to attached and devoted to one another after so long a time.  
  
It was just the type of person Trish was. She couldn't hold one man for too long. Christian knew that. They were both in this for the same reason. Not love. Love didn't exist after what Chris did to her. Love was a word without a meaning, a long-gone hope that Trish had once had. She shook off the chills that found her, settling into Christian's strong arms.  
  
He rested his head on hers, and his fingers gently played on her arm, his strength pulling her into him. His warmth calling her from the chilly atmosphere, and her frosty thoughts.  
  
Nothing, nothing would ever be the same for her after this thing with Chris. She had truly loved him. She WANTED him to know that. She WANTED him to know now what he had and how it would be gone from him forever because of what he did. He was stupid. A stupid heartless bastard that never deserved her love when she willingly gave it up for him, and certainly didn't deserve it now.  
  
She sometimes wondered what she was doing with Christian, of all people. He had been involved in the bet, too. But he didn't break her heart like Chris had, no. He didn't lead her on for so long, claiming to love her and claiming to feel things for her he never had for anyone before in his life. He didn't lead Lita on, either. When Matt came back into her life, he fell out of the picture. Unlike Chris, he hadn't hopelessly clung to something so far out of reach, claiming his feelings were real when they were nothing more than fraud.  
  
The only thing Trish believed in now, the only thing she believed any man could give her, was sex. The intriguing thing about Christian was that he knew just how Trish felt, and he would never force her to fall in "love" with him. He would just be a man, and she would be a woman, and their physical needs would be met, without the lies and distractions of this "love".  
  
Chris had hurt Trish like no one before him ever had. Sure, she'd been lied to, she'd been cheated, she'd been played, used, deceived. She'd had her heart ripped out once or twice. But never had she been stepped on, beaten, battered, and blown clear out of the water until Chris came along.  
  
Nothing felt as bad as hearing that every emotion she'd owned up to as being real, every part of her inner-self she'd given in to, every bit of the girlhood fantasy she had waited so long to feel, was a bet. A god damned bet. That was all Trish was to anyone. A dumb bitch who could be bought. Some slut, some whore that men can just do as they wish with, for their own satisfaction.  
  
She closed her eyes tightly, blocking out every voice she heard around her, just ducking her head into Christian's side. Feeling comfort in him. Physical comfort, which was all she could ever get. Inside, she was bare. She was torn. There was nothing left in her. It was about time she started realizing that there was no more than sex to hope for in men. No more than a nice fuck every now and then. Nothing else.  
  
At least she knew that all Christian wanted from her was sex. At least he didn't try to get her to open up to him, forcing her to believe that all the sweet words he said were because he actually felt for her. Christian was the first man that directly spoke his motive to her, no strings attached, and for that, she graciously obliged to him. He deserved her body for being honest.  
  
She knew, as much as she hated to believe it, that when Chris said he "still loved" her... it was the cruel bastard she fell in "love" with, lying to her all over again.  
  
--- --- --- --- --- --- ---  
  
Chris gathered his bags and all of his belongings in his hotel room. He hadn't even planned this out before making the decision to leave. He had no place to go, no one to really turn to who wasn't in the WWE. None of them were of any help to him right now.  
  
He fiercely fisted at his clothing, lying on piles on the floor, scattered around him, and stuffed them into his bags. He was rushing so fast to pack that he had no time to think of anything, no time to agonize, no time to sink into regret, self-loathing, pity. All emotions he had felt before, but never really grown accustomed to.  
  
As he knelt down quickly, reaching for some crumpled piece of stationary that was peeking out just inches from under the bed, he stopped. He grabbed a corner of the crushed paper, slowly bringing it to his face and flattening out the sides of it. Just stopping for a few moments, memories suddenly haunting him and attacking him as they rushed into thought, he read through the words on the paper.  
  
Chris,  
  
Nothing worth reading more than once, nothing worth thinking over too much, just a short thank-you. For a few short months of my life you've made me feel unlike I've ever felt before. Something inside of me just burns when you're around, and I've never had that feeling for another man before. There have been times before that I've had to question myself being with a guy for the wrong reasons, but being with you... it's all right. I just want to say thank-you, Chris, because I don't have to ask, and I don't have to question you or myself. I... think I'm falling for you.  
  
Trish  
  
He folded the paper from corner to corner, bringing it to his lips, and just holding it steady there for a while. The first line... she got him with that first line. "Nothing worth reading more than once." Chris had read that note over and over, much less more than once. He inhaled deeply, the scent of her still so lightly kempt in that small paper. The scent of her that he loved, the intoxicating, feminine, beauteous smell that he was so sensitive to.  
  
He crumpled the paper back up and stuffed it deep in the bottom of his bag, underneath all of his dirty clothes. How in the bloody hell did that note get out on to his hotel room floor? He hadn't read it in ages. God, he didn't want that lovely smell of her with him still. He zipped the bag shut, hauling it up onto his bed.  
  
Chris leaned over the bag, resting his forehead in his palms, sighing deeply and heavily. He tried so hard to block images of her from his mind when his eyes were shut, but it was impossible. He had to force his eyes open, to the point where he could feel the blood pulsing within his skull, his eyes watering, aching to shut. He wouldn't have it, no. He blinked once, as quickly as he could manage, and wiped the moisture away that clung to his eyelashes.  
  
That wasn't a tear for her. He swore to God Almighty it wasn't. He wasn't crying over Trish Stratus again. She put him through more hell than he knew was ever physically or emotionally possible. That woman had the deepest effect on him with the slightest move she made.  
  
In one swift movement he unzipped his gym bag once more, digging his hand through his clothing, his fingers pawing at the bottom of the bag, searching over the fabric. When he felt the crinkle of the notepaper, he pulled it out as hard as he could, and using both his hands, tore the paper furiously into as many thin shreds as he could. Tears seeped out of the corners of his eyes in doing so, and he couldn't help anything but to just break down.  
  
He hurled the bag over his shoulder, leaving it unzipped, the sleeves of some of his shirts hanging out over the opening. He grabbed the rest of his bags and a suitcase off of the floor, turning the knob of the door, and leaving the room. The scattered pieces of Trish's note were left like soft, thick snowflakes, gently falling from the end of the bed to the floor.  
  
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Okay, so... finally have another chapter up! I'm proud of myself. Way to get back on task, Chigz! Depending on the response I get for this chapter, or the latest chapter of Souls Drawn Asunder, I'll write and post the next chapter to either one. It's really hard for me writing two fanfics at once though. I'm never doing this again. X_X Anyway, I'm extremely tired. It's 9:45am, and I haven't slept ALL night. I've been too busy writing, and reading Crimson Coin's fanfics, which, I must point out, pretty much inspired me to start writing Chris/Trish fics in the first place. So thank you, CC, if I can call you that. O_o I am all too inferior. And such a suckup, as well. *Rolls her eyes at herself*... Blah. 


	7. Pain in Pleasure

Chris's eyes were always warm on hers, and his touch so invigorating, the moment it met her bare skin. She had everything she ever wanted in him, and their longing, loving, heavy stare physically and mentally solidified that notion.  
  
He stepped toward her, his piercing, icy blue eyes so intense and direct. She wondered how she hadn't become awestruck just then. The rest of him was a blur in that moment, her gaze locking with his, his breathing steady, and hers just the opposite. He made her so powerless, just waiting for him, for his caress, the feel of being taken in his arms and just dazzled the life out of. His lips were so soft, so pure, so natural and full. They were almost perfectly contoured with hers, it made her dizzy when they kissed.  
  
His breath on her cheek felt so warm, so toxic, so lusty and yet... everything she had ever wanted to feel, so filled with genuine, raw, unadulterated love. Just love. He brought those beautiful lips to her ear, and as his breathing slowed, she felt herself die... before he said the words. Her eyes closed, and she melted, just at that breath the moment before.  
  
"I love you..." and her heart was taken. Her mouth with it, as she pulled herself into him, into his embrace, into that adoring man, the only one she wanted to be with, now and ever. His palms were so soft but so rugged, finding the back of her neck, pulling her into him, traveling just over the front of her shoulders and down around her waist.  
  
And God, that sweet mouth, those sweet lips, that tongue, the taste of him. Just in admiring him and his beauty, she felt so present, so whole, so woman. Like now was the only moment she would ever want to be in. Like she was trapped, by his sensuality, his charm, the truth in every breath he whispered to her. And as her lightly powdered eyelids rose, his kiss still taking her, she noticed that his gorgeous blue eyes were closed, and that...... was how she knew.  
  
It was gone quicker than she ever wanted it to be, left without fully savoring him. She woke up, outstretched on Christian's hotel bed, her soft gaze finally strengthening, and her body filling with wake. Her deep, chocolate brown pools were stuck on the white spiral-patterned ceiling. Both her arms lay at her sides, and one of her index fingers spun around, tracing the coils and curls as her eyes followed the circular tile.  
  
She always had this obliviousness to her in the morning, the first few minutes after she woke. A subtle glint in her eye, she turned her gaze toward the window, curtains pulled back, a bright sun shining in. His voice rang at her, immediately startling her and bringing the whimsicality in her face to a halt.  
  
"Rise and shine." Christian walked toward her bedside, used to the strangeness she exhibited in the mornings. Trish shook the shock out of her expression and her eyes just darted around, confused. Why didn't she remember this? Had she...?  
  
Trish slid her arms up underneath the sheets and pulled the covers a few inches off of her. She recognized the clothes she was wearing from the night before. She hadn't.  
  
"Hey, you wanna go take a walk or something? You're looking worse than usual." Christian sat on the bed beside her, and his fingers traced beneath the covers, brushing against her side, slowly peeling the fabric of her shirt back over her flesh.  
  
She lunged herself up in the bed, and Christian drew his hand back, looking awkwardly at her, his brow arched. For a few seconds, she looked robotic, sitting completely still, not a fragment of her body making a sudden movement. Her eyes wandered the room frantically, seemingly in search of something.  
  
"Y...you okay?" Christian draped an arm over her shoulder, looking at her. Trish brought both her palms to her face and pushed them over her forehead, her fingers combing briskly through her hair. She let them rest on the sides of her head.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, I'm good, I'm okay. I swear I'm okay. Morning, Christian." She pulled her legs over the side of the bed, sitting beside him, and pushed herself upward, stumbling the slightest bit as she stood freely.  
  
She faintly remembered the night before, the draft lottery. She and Christian were safe, together. At least she had that. She couldn't recall any other events of the night, just how thankful she was at the one person in her life that hadn't ever lied to her. It was the truth. Christian had never once lied to her, not that she could remember, and he seemed like the only person who wasn't trying to pull her strings and toy with her to get what he wanted. He just went for it. But not that night. She knew it, because she was in the same clothes she was in at Raw. That, and she didn't remember doing anything past then.  
  
He stood up next to her, unsure of how to react to her crazed display, but lucky for him, she made the first move. Suddenly her arms were around his neck, and her lips pressed to his, her tongue invading his mouth, her hands sliding downward, wandering over his chest. He never wore a shirt in the morning. Hardly at all, when he was with her, actually. He was taken aback, but complied more than willing, his strong arms pressed firmly on her back, urging her into him. His tongue wandered with hers, and in nothing more than lust and physicality, he forced Trish's back to the bed, his mouth engulfed in warmth.  
  
Trish needed him then. Anything. Anything he could do to just get her mind off of that dream. God, what the HELL was that dream for? What was her subconscious mind trying to do? She had never dreamt of him, not once since they were dating. She was reluctant to think of Chris at all, much less in her dreams. She was scared, really...  
  
As much as the lust between she and Christian surrounded her, Trish's mind kept wandering back to how she felt with him, with Chris... and how fool she was to give that up, even if it was a lie. Who cared about lies? At least just feeling him near her was complete bliss. Christian didn't do that. Christian was in it for himself. All men were, really.  
  
The thoughts kept invading her mind, pummeling her senseless to the point she nearly burst out screaming in horror right into Christian's mouth. All men were in it for themselves, yes. That was it, purely. Christian was, she knew it. But she wanted it anyway. Just to get him out of her mind. They were in it for sex, for them, all of them... But not Chris... DAMMIT, WOMAN... snap the hell out of it... Chris used you. He used you, he made you believe in love and he took complete advantage of that, advantage of you. He's a fucking prick. A lowlife, heartless prick.  
  
But if he only wanted her for sex... why had they never, in their whole long relationship, gone quite that far? That alone should have been proof that he was in it for love. Real love.  
  
What love? The kind he walked out on, the kind she felt before he tore it away with that fucking bet? Not that love, because he ruined his chances at that love. If he wanted that, if he truly wanted her...  
  
Trish pushed Christian away from her in a sudden, fierce motion, angrily shoving him back from on top of her. She thrashed on the bed, her arms retreating, hugging around her own waist, her knees curled, eyes shut tight, forcing all images out of her head but black. Just black. And she lie on the bed, helpless, writhing in so many mixed emotions, feelings she never wanted to have, so many voices ripping through her head, telling her how to think and what to feel. She wanted them all out.  
  
She tried locking the thoughts out of her mind, pushing every thought of him to the side, trying to fight these torturing images, the feel, the words, everything. Trying to fight them from her, fight everything away from her. She refused to let her own needs come last to these jabbing emotions that struck her body hard, that caused her to flinch at the mere mention of his name. Anything that brought her mind back to her past with him, to the gloriousness of him that she missed. She only missed it not because it wasn't real. She only rejected it, she only betrayed him because he wasn't real. Because he lied about being real.  
  
Christian stared at her, his own body left hungry for her. He stood absolutely still, motionless, his eyes cast on her in her vulnerable, wretched form. He climbed into the bed with her and took her in his arms, praying silently she would not push him away.  
  
As tears slipped from her eyes, Christian's lips rushed to kiss them from her flesh, kiss them from her beautiful face. And he took her lips with his again. It was all he could think of to do to ease her pain. He wasn't only in it for himself.  
  
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Weee, I'm starting to actually like this story! ^_^ I don't even know what I'm going to do next. Well that's two new chapters posted today. At this rate I might finish the whole story by tomorrow. Or not. Please review. If you review at all, review on this chapter, because not even I know what to think of this chapter... so give me some feedback!! 


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